playing criss cross applesauce,
in the yards of all our friends' -
with scraped up knees
and toothy wide grins,
holding hands to stay safe,
and keeping our pinkies crossed,
to keep our words even safer.
life felt younger,
and souls felt free,
climbing up trees,
and soaring through the breeze -
making pies from the soaked up dirt
and milkshakes out of grass,
the sky was the limit,
and our limit could go as far
as each of our imaginations'
could begin to reach.
my hands wouldn't ever begin to ache
from tempatations and hurt,
my soul felt oh so free,
running and running through fields
of daisies and tulips
with my feet free and wet -
catching colds from rain,
we refused to leave,
choosing to get sick
rather than end our days of fun.